


the night asks how i'm doing

by precipice_blades



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: HeartGold & SoulSilver | Pokemon HeartGold & SoulSilver Versions
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24776059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/precipice_blades/pseuds/precipice_blades
Summary: As much as he hides it, he really does love his pokemon a lot—even if they have the tendency to butt their heads into his sorely lacking love life.Or: The five times Morty's ghost pokemon interrupted him and Ethan, and the one time they didn't.
Relationships: Matsuba | Morty/Hibiki | Ethan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	the night asks how i'm doing

**Author's Note:**

> title is from shangri-la by vixx

* * *

I.

* * *

Morty knew what he was getting into when he had first decided to specialize as a ghost-type gym leader. He was abundantly aware of the harsh rumors and rather demeaning assumptions—the most prevalent being that they're mischievous pranksters with a slight sadistic streak—surrounding ghost-type pokemon. In fact, trying to disprove those falsities had been one of his, admittedly naive, goals when he first started his career as gym leader.

But now, trying to calm a frantic Ethan from profusely apologizing for accidentally bumping into his head when Morty's dusknoir interrupted their private time (read: making out on Morty's rotting couch, of which he _really_ should replace) has Morty reconsidering his previously held (and presently crumbling) beliefs.

"It's okay, Ethan," Morty says, his large hands seizing Ethan's arms and effectively stopping him from floundering any further. "Really, I'm fine."

"Still—" Ethan sniffs, his dark eyes watery, and Morty has to actively suppress himself from cooing at the adorable sight. "I'm _so_ sorry, I didn't mean to hit your head so hard!"

"It was an accident, nothing to fuss over," Morty says, his cheeky grin softening at the guilt-ridden look marring Ethan's youthful features. He laughs quietly, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the moisture collecting at the corners of Ethan's eyes. "You're really such a worrywart, aren't you?"

Morty jokes now, but the slight throbbing of his cranium testifies otherwise. Ethan's surprise headbutt had admittedly caught him off guard, and it would most likely fester into a nasty bruise come next morning. But Ethan is just so damn _cute_ , there's no way in hell he's going to make him feel even worse than he already does.

Ethan pouts, and Morty tries not to think too hard about how glossy and inviting his lower lip looks under the shitty fluorescent lighting of his living room. "Of course I'm gonna worry…" He shyly turns his head to the side, his eyes flitting away as his small hands come up to grasp at Morty's forearms. "It made such a loud sound, too…"

Morty bites back a sigh—his boyfriend's knack for worrying over such trivial matters truly puts even the most protective of kangaskhan to shame.

"Then…" he drawls, meeting Ethan's inquisitive glance with his own patient gaze. "How about you make it up to me with a kiss? Sound like a fair deal?"

Ethan's face breaks out into a wide smile, his cheeks reddening as he says, "What a hefty bargain…I'm not sure if I'd be able to afford it."

Morty's grin turns sly as he winds his arms around Ethan's slim waist and unceremoniously drops him onto his lap, making Ethan squeal with laughter. "Then I guess you better get started on repaying your debt, hmm?"

Ethan noses at Morty's cheek, slim fingers coming up to play with the blond strands of hair curling behind Morty's ear. "Guess I better," he says, soft lips descending on Morty's awaiting ones, who makes a noise of content from the contact.

They kiss quietly on Morty's aging couch, the room silent save for the gentle smacking of lips against lips. Though Morty had invited Ethan to his home with naughtier intentions in mind, he supposes this will have to do—he really doesn't need a repeat of his dusknoir spooking Ethan again, and he'd prefer to keep bodily harm to a minimum.

There's always next time, after all.

* * *

II.

* * *

Morty swears to whatever deity reigning above that he didn't plan anything when he had invited Ethan over for the evening.

He had been taking a casual stroll through the city earlier that day, bidding respectful greetings to any who came across his path. On his way back, he saw some rambunctious kids who were waiting at his gym to challenge him, smiling at the eager grins plastered across their faces.

The sight of those kids brought up the memory of when Ethan first challenged him for the Fog Badge. Morty hadn't realized it then, too absorbed in defeating his then challenger, but during the course of their match, the shift from Ethan's shy, meek demeanor to a determined and battle-confident teen had Morty intrigued.

He fondly remembers Ethan's flustered smile when Morty had awarded him the Fog Badge for his, and his pokemon's, efforts. It was as if the fearsome challenger he had faced during battle was some trick of the light, and it confused Morty how quickly Ethan had reverted back to his demure self, who had meekly accepted the badge with red-tinted cheeks.

Even so, Morty couldn't deny the satisfaction he felt when he winked—rather flirtatiously—at Ethan as he passed over the badge, holding Ethan's hand a bit longer than platonically permissible. The poor teen blushed so hard that the color rivaled that of his jacket. In retrospect, Morty supposes he had acted a tad uncharacteristically, but he's certain that no one could fault him for wanting to tease someone as cute as Ethan.

Bringing himself back to the present, Morty crosses the threshold to his home and locks the door behind him. At this point in their relationship, taking out his pokegear and pulling up Ethan's number is muscle memory. Within a few seconds, Morty hears the _ping!_ of a text message and he doesn't bother hiding the smile that splits his face as he reads Ethan's enthusiastic acceptance to Morty's offer of spending the evening at his place.

So consumed in his bliss of soon basking in his lover's company that Morty had completely forgotten that he shared his home with his beloved ghost pokemon.

With a click of his tongue, Morty sharply turns on his heel, heading out the front door to the expanse of land behind his home. Forking out his pokeballs, he throws them in the air. The devices click open in a burst of light, revealing his team of ghost pokemon. They all stretch out their limbs, or lack thereof, inquisitively looking at their trainer for instruction.

"So," Morty says, stern, his hands on his hips. "Ethan's coming over."

Instantly, the group of ghosts burst into cheer, clearly elated at the prospect of their favorite—and only—playmate coming to visit.

"Ahem." Morty pointedly coughs, glaring at his team until the racket dies down. "He's coming over to see _me_."

The ghosts deflate at Morty's emphasis, making rather pathetic noises of discontent. Except for sableye, who just stares impassively—even though he's the trainer, even Morty isn't sure what his sableye is thinking sometimes.

"I don't want to hear it," Morty says, his tone hard as steel. "You guys have your fun with him; it's only fair I get to as well, right?"

Resolutely ignoring his gengar's impish look, he says, "That means no 'accidental' barging in, okay? Just play out here, or anywhere really, until Ethan goes home. I trust that you all can take care of yourselves."

They all nod at him, the group parting in separate ways, though Morty doesn't miss the way gengar chuckles at his desperate plea. Morty admits that he's not above begging for his pokemon to give him and Ethan some alone time—even if it does leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Ethan arrives at his doorstep fifteen minutes later, bearing sweets he and his mother had baked earlier that day, and they make their way to the living room, plopping down on the couch.

Ethan excitedly opens up the box inside the bag, chattering away as he picks up a brownie to munch on. Morty isn't a fan of sugary treats, but the radiant smile Ethan sends his way when Morty picked up a cookie tasted sweeter than the confection itself.

As the evening passes by, so does the distance between the two. Initially, Ethan had seated himself a foot away from Morty, but as they talked, the distance between them lessened until it painted the current scene of Ethan sitting firmly in Morty's lap, his back flush against Morty's chest.

He let Ethan talk about whatever's on his mind, chiming in with his opinion whenever he felt it necessary. Morty doesn't consider himself the silent type, but when juxtaposed to Ethan's rather endearing trait of babbling whenever given the chance to, he could see why he would be judged that way in comparison.

He prefers quietly listening to Ethan's ramblings while they cuddle, one arm secured around Ethan's thin waist and the other playing with Ethan's unoccupied hand. Shifting his head a bit to the side, Morty buries his nose into the dark, glossy strands of Ethan's hair. He inhales the scent wafting from Ethan's scalp, noting an undercurrent of something fruity. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be strange to ask Ethan what shampoo he uses.

Much to his surprise, the evening goes fairly well. It's actually scary how smoothly things went—not once had Morty's pokemon interrupted their time, and yet Morty had the strongest sense of eerie foreboding.

Ignoring his paranoia, Morty bids Ethan farewell as the evening bleeds into night and moon is high in the sky. Ethan pouts, cutely admitting he wants to stay the night, and though it pains Morty to deny his beloved the opportunity, he has no desire to ignore the words of Ethan's mother, of which serve as a staunch reminder of Ethan's strict bedtime.

"She doesn't have to know," Ethan insists, the gleam of his pouting lips just barely convincing Morty otherwise.

Morty chuckles, ruffling Ethan's hair and fitting Ethan's cap snugly over his head. "Trust me, it's not that I'm averse to the idea, but let's not incur her wrath, okay?"

He bends down to kiss the pout off Ethan's face, inwardly smirking at how Ethan relaxes into the embrace. Pecking his lips one more time, Morty pulls away and smiles at Ethan's pleased blush. "Will you be able to get home all right?"

It takes a second for Ethan to break out of his stupor, the dark flush of his cheeks not going unnoticed as he chirps, "Yup! I have togekiss with me!"

"I'll walk you out, then," Morty says, opening the door and ushering Ethan out with a hand on the bend of his back.

Outside, the black of night envelopes Ecruteak City like a cape. Off in the forest, the trills of hoothoot and woodland pokemon can be heard. A gust of wind sweeps past the entrance to Morty's home, making Ethan shiver a bit. Instinctively, Morty reaches out, but Ethan beats him to it, the willowy teen clutching at his dark sweater as he burrows into Morty's chest for warmth.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Morty asks, concerned. The frigidity is certainly unexpected—he's definitely not willing to let Ethan fly out into the cold air with only a thin jacket for warmth, protective mothers be damned.

Instead of answering, Ethan looks out into the dark depths behind Morty's home. "What's your mismagius doing out there?"

Ah, he had almost forgotten. "I sent my team out to have their fun. I'm assuming mismagius is the only one who actually stuck around here."

"I was wondering why it was so peaceful today." Ethan giggles, light and cheery, and the sound makes Morty smile. Looking up at him, Ethan mockingly berates him: "Don't tell me you kicked them out?"

Morty heaves a dramatic sigh, causing Ethan to burst into titters again. "Ah, you caught me. Yes, I did forbid them from bothering us today, but can I really be blamed for doing so?"

"I absolutely _can_ blame you!" Ethan laughs, wrinkling his nose in that cute way of his, begging Morty to pinch it. "I love hanging out with your pokemon, don't ban them when I come over!"

"Oh?" Morty bends down and pulls Ethan to his chest, his hands snaking down and poised at Ethan's waist. "Are you saying you want to spend more time with your boyfriend's pokemon than with your actual boyfriend?"

Ethan pretends to think about it, his index finger tapping at his plush bottom lip. "Well, since you put it like that…"

"Brat," Morty says, his fingers mercilessly digging into Ethan's waist and making him yelp from surprise. He kisses Ethan's cheek as he tickles Ethan into submission, relenting only when he begs for mercy.

"I'll ignore this offense for now," Morty says when Ethan recovers from his outburst. "But the punishment will be more severe if you commit this crime again."

"Yes, yes, whatever you say." Ethan giggles, his face alight with pink. His face then morphs to that of contemplation, his cheeks puffing out a bit. He squeaks when Morty suddenly pinches a rosy cheek, batting at the offending appendage with his dainty hands as Morty laughs at the adorable display.

"Let me see her off before I go," Ethan finally says, relinquishing his hold on Morty's sweater and from Morty's dangerous hands.

Morty huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay, but make it quick. I don't want to worry your mother," he says, but Ethan is already jogging up to his mismagius, giving Morty the strongest impression that he had been ignored.

"…is this rejection?" he grumbles to himself, fighting the urge to pout as he watches his small boyfriend happily launch himself at his unsuspecting mismagius.

Which proves to be a mistake—with the dark of night obscuring his vision, Morty had overlooked what exactly his mismagius was doing outside his home. When he breaks off into a run, it's already too late.

The ensuing scene pans out like it had been recorded in slow motion: Mismagius startles when Ethan calls out her name, loosing focus as the glowing leaves suspended around her ghostly body instinctively switch their target from the dark trees to the source of her disturbance.

Morty's warning goes unnoticed, lost to the oppressive night as mismagius accidentally fires a Magical Leaf at Ethan's unsuspecting form, the hardened leaves shimmering in the moonlight as they barrel towards him. Fortunately, Ethan's already throwing his arms protectively over his face, though it leaves his torso entirely exposed to the attack.

"Ethan!" Morty yells, barely making it in time to catch Ethan's falling body before he hits the ground. Gently cradling Ethan to his chest, Morty soothingly rubs Ethan's arm, inspecting him for any grave injuries.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Morty asks, frantic. It feels like his heart will burst out of his chest with how hard it's beating.

"I'm fine." Ethan smiles up at him, grateful, only to wince a moment after as he curls into Morty's chest. "Ouch…"

"Don't force yourself, idiot," Morty admonishes, relieved to see that Ethan hadn't sustained any major injuries, only his jacket and pants sporting superficial cuts. "Let's get you inside."

He hoists Ethan into his arms, carrying Ethan princess style, which interestingly makes Ethan burst into a fierce blush, scrambling to wrap his arms around Morty's neck. Filing the reaction away for later, Morty dashes back into his home.

Once inside, Morty pads towards his bathroom, carefully setting Ethan down at the edge of the bathtub before swinging open the mirror cabinet situated above the sink, rummaging for a first-aid kit. He casts a concerned glance at Ethan when he whimpers a bit as he settles down. Looking up and seeing Morty's worry, Ethan gives him a bright grin.

"I'm okay, seriously!" Ethan says, poking Morty's nose when he sets the first-aid kit by Ethan's side. "I can't believe you thought I was the worrywart here."

Despite the concern gnawing at him, Morty spares a laugh at Ethan's antics. "I think something as serious as this warrants some worry."

They both startle when they hear a low murmur from the bathroom's entrance. The duo watch as the door opens a little, mismagius peering into the gap with somber, downcast eyes.

In his haste to take care of Ethan, Morty had forgotten entirely about his mismagius. Morty allows himself a small smile at the dismayed expression on mismagius' face, knowing full well he can spare the lecture about safety for now.

"Mismagius!" Ethan chirps happily, waving the pokemon in. "Come in, come in!"

Mismagius hovers by the door, seemingly hesitant to come to the very trainer she hurt due to her carelessness.

"It's okay," Morty says, drawing mismagius' attention. "It was an accident."

"Yeah!" Ethan exclaims. "I'm not mad at you, so don't worry, okay?"

Their affirmations seemed to do the trick; mismagius ecstatically careens into Ethan's awaiting embrace, her purple face nuzzling against Ethan's pink cheeks. Ethan laughs, his hands coming up to stroke mismagius' head.

Morty smiles at the display, his heart warming. For all the flack he gives his pokemon, he really does adore them, and it makes even happier to know that his boyfriend—his most special person—feels the same way.

Glancing down, Morty feels his blood run cold. With the excitement dying down, Morty really hadn't looked twice at Ethan's state of dress, but now that it's in his face…

Since Ethan had covered himself with his arms, the sleeves of his jacket had braced the full brunt of mismagius' attack, sporting multiple tears. Due to the action occurring last minute, however, his torso hadn't been fully spared. This resulted in rather deep cuts that line the sides of his abdomen, some even cutting far enough to graze against Ethan's white shirt underneath. Fortunately, none seemed to have nick his skin.

To make matters worse, the leaves had even managed to rip across Ethan's pants as well, leaving open holes to tease at full, pale thighs. Morty gulps, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

Coughing to draw Ethan's attention, and to ground his dangerously trailing thoughts, he says, "Wait here, let me get you some clothes."

Morty immediately turns on his heel, not even bothering to hear Ethan's assent. Exiting the bathroom, he closes the door behind him before heaving a heavy sigh. When he returns, after taking some time to calm his racing heart within the safety of his bedroom, he's holding a spare change of clothes.

He knocks before he opens the door, and the scene he's faced with almost makes him drop the load in his arms.

"You're back!" Ethan says, sitting almost naked on the toilet seat. He takes the band-aid offered to him from mismagius' mouth, completely oblivious to Morty's silence. "I hope you don't mind; I'm not injured that much, but I just want to cover some of the cuts I got. They're not too bad, though! It's only a precaution."

"O-Of course," Morty says, a blush of humiliation rising on his cheeks. "It's not a problem…"

Pacing over to the rack a tad too quickly, Morty unceremoniously drops the clothes atop it, all the while resolutely refusing to look at the sheer expanse of skin Ethan is exposing to his traitorous eyes.

"I'll leave these here; come to my room when you're done," he says, rushing out the room without waiting for Ethan's response.

When the door closes behind Morty's retreating back, Ethan curiously looks at mismagius. "I wonder what that was about."

Mismagius has a sneaking suspicion, merely humming as she offers another band-aid.

* * *

In his room, Morty is having a crisis.

He slumps into his bed, head held in his hands, heart thumping quickly in his chest. He knows he should have stayed and helped Ethan tend to his injuries, but he knows if he had remained in that space any longer, he might have snapped.

No matter how hard he tries, he can't get the sight of Ethan's exposed— _unmarked, ripe for the taking_ —body out of his mind. When he closes his eyes, all that he sees is Ethan: Ethan's slim fingers holding a towel to dab at the soft skin of his torso, Ethan's pert, pink nipples, the pleasant dip of Ethan's hips, the round swell of Ethan's thighs, the waistband of his briefs as it stretches around Ethan's pelvis—

Morty slaps his cheeks, the sound reverberating in his room. _Get ahold of yourself,_ he thinks. _He almost got seriously hurt, and this is all you think about!_

As he sighs, the door to his room creaks open, revealing a smiling Ethan.

"There you are!" Ethan says, entering the room.

"You're saying that like I didn't tell you I was going to be here," Morty retorts, softly chuckling at Ethan's pout. Again, he makes the mistake of looking down, and it makes him want to call back his mismagius to end his misery.

Ethan is wearing an old shirt of his, gray and flayed at the stitches, and though it's the smallest size Morty could find, it still drapes off Ethan's slight frame, the loose collar shifting a bit to the side to hint at Ethan's collarbone. But that's not the problem—no, the issue at hand is that Ethan isn't wearing the pants he lent him, fully baring his long legs for Morty's eyes to take in.

If Morty had been a lesser man, he might have whimpered.

"W-What—" he starts, but he can't bring himself to finish his statement, too allured by the sight of Ethan's naked legs to manage anything coherent.

Ethan tilts his head to the side, confusion painting his features, before he lights up in recognition. With a sheepish smile, he says, "The sweatpants you gave me were too long, and it kept slipping down. I just thought it'd be easier if I didn't wear them at all, if that's all right?"

When Morty's flabbergasted expression doesn't change, Ethan panics, his hands flailing about as he says, "But I'm wearing underwear, so it's not bad, right?"

In a momentary lapse of judgement, Ethan lifts the hem of the oversized shirt just above his navel to prove his statement, exclaiming, "See?"

Morty's face explodes with red, the color rivaling that of Ethan's jacket. Before Ethan can voice his concerns, Morty is wobbling towards the bed, collapsing face-first onto the sheets with a dismayed groan.

"Morty?!" Ethan cries, frantically rushing over to the gym leader sinking into the mattress. "Are you okay?"

_No,_ Morty wants to lament, _I'm not okay. You're going to kill me._ Instead, he croaks, "I'm fine."

The bed dips beside him, and Morty feels the soft press of hands on his back, gently kneading the tension building up in the muscle. Morty has to bite back a sigh, his thoughts wandering to whether Ethan could use those hands of his somewhere else—

"Do you want to stay the night?" Morty asks suddenly, trying to distract himself from the dangerous territory his thoughts are approaching.

Ethan hums, pondering over the question as his hands still. "I want to, but my mom…"

"I'll talk to her," Morty says, maneuvering himself to an upright position, legs crossed. "I'll explain everything, so you don't have to worry about it. I just don't want you to go out alone this late." _And while wearing my clothes,_ Morty doesn't voice aloud. _That would definitely put me high on your mother's hit list._

"Really?" Ethan positively beams, not giving Morty a second to respond before he's throwing himself into Morty's arms, giggling. "Yay, sleepover!"

Morty can't help the chuckle that escapes him; Ethan's happiness is just too infectious. He gives Ethan's cheek a chaste kiss, careful to put his hands above waist level as he holds onto Ethan's torso. "Get some rest. I'm going to call your mom and let her know."

Ethan nods his assent, shyly pecking Morty's mouth before he dives into the sheets, pulling the covers up to his chin. There's a blush on his cheeks when he says, "Don't take too long, okay? Or I'll miss you."

Morty firmly wills back the flush threatening to rise on his cheeks as he smiles at Ethan snuggling into a pillow. Ruffling Ethan's hair, he leaves the room to get his pokegear.

The subsequent call with Ethan's mother is as hectic as Morty expected it to be. It takes almost a full hour to assuage the frantic woman's concerns, promising that he'll keep Ethan safe and that he will be sent home as soon as morning comes. He almost feels guilty when he tells her that Ethan will sleep in a separate room.

Almost.

When the call ends and the screen of the pokegear fizzes out, Morty sighs. Ethan should be grateful that he's worth all the trouble of dealing with such an overprotective mother.

He quietly returns to his bedroom, opening the door to see Ethan soundly asleep. The door shutting behind him, he pads over to the bed, slowly getting under the covers. He smiles to himself when Ethan immediately wiggles closer to him, instinctively seeking out his warmth.

Morty gathers Ethan into his arms, tucking Ethan's head under his chin as he circles his arms around Ethan's waist. As Morty closes his eyes, the soft sound of Ethan's breaths lulling him to sleep, he absently thinks he should reward his mismagius for all her troubles.

* * *

III.

* * *

The next morning, there is a distinct emptiness beside Morty.

Morty yawns, the force of it making his eyes water as he groggily takes in his surroundings. The covers are rumpled, and there's a dip in the mattress next to Morty, indicating that someone had recently been sleeping in it.

That's when the previous day's memories come rushing in like an uninvited guest.

Morty barely suppresses a shiver as he recalls his promise to Ethan's mother. Swinging his legs over to the side, Morty puts on his slippers and sleepily ambles his way over to the bathroom.

The faucet sputters to life as cool water gushes out. Morty lets the liquid accumulate in his cupped hands and splashes it onto his face, letting the coldness wake him up. It takes him a few minutes to sober, the sleepiness slowly seeping away. As he brushes his teeth, Morty vaguely notes that this is the best sleep he's had in ages.

Once he finishes, he pads out of his room and into the kitchen, his footfalls quiet. When he enters the kitchen, there is already someone there, flitting about his stove.

Morty doesn't know what to think as he watches Ethan bustle around in his kitchen like he's lived there his whole life. An apron is tied tightly across his thin waist, the straps pulled into a cute bow that rests above the bend of Ethan's back. Morty has half a mind to ask where the hell Ethan had conjured that apron from, because he has no memory of owning such an item.

Then he notices that Ethan is still not wearing pants, legs completely bare under the oversized shirt. Some part of Morty tells him that Ethan is way too nice to be doing this purposefully, but another part of him is sold on the idea that maybe Ethan is just that cruel.

So distracted by the heartwarming (and devastatingly arousing) sight of Ethan cooking in his kitchen that Morty had nearly overlooked his sableye working beside Ethan, preoccupied with whatever task he had been assigned.

Smiling to himself, Morty goes over to sit on a stool by the kitchen island. He silently watches as Ethan slides a cutting board to sableye, the pokemon needing no further instruction as he starts methodically slicing away the assortment of vegetables presented to him.

Sableye chirps in satisfaction as Ethan looks over his work, grinning when his head is petted for a job well done.

"This looks great! You're a natural at this," Ethan says, waving away the steam billowing up from the pot set atop the stove. "I hope Morty likes this…"

"I'm sure it'll be delicious," Morty pipes up, relishing the way Ethan yelps and almost jumps a foot into the air. Sableye snickers, his arms reaching out to steady Ethan in case he accidentally keels over from fright.

Blushing madly, Ethan turns to the source of the sudden sound, his eyes landing on a smug Morty.

"Morty!" Ethan cries, his arms flailing as a furious redness encroaches upon his ears. "Do you have to keep doing that?!"

Morty shrugs, his lips playing into a sly grin. "Perks of dating a ghost-type gym leader?"

Ethan pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're so mean."

"I'm only teasing." Morty laughs, getting up from his seat and stalking towards Ethan. Ignoring Ethan's questioning look, he crowds Ethan against the counter and firmly plants his hands on either side, effectively trapping Ethan between his arms.

Ethan's face bursts into color as the suggestive nature of the situation finally dawns on him. "M-Morty, what are you—?"

"Why don't you let me make it up to you?" Morty asks, his low voice making Ethan shiver. Cupping his chin, Morty lifts Ethan's face until they're making eye contact.

Morty doesn't give Ethan a chance to react as he leans forward and plants a sound kiss on Ethan's mouth. Ethan's subsequent whine is lost in the mesh of their mouths, a pink flush rising on his cheeks as his heart begins to race.

Biting back a growl, Morty further pushes Ethan into the counter, his hand moving from Ethan's chin to cradle the back of Ethan's head as he crushes their lips together in a series of rough kisses. He swallows Ethan's whimpers as Ethan arches into him, dainty hands coming up to fist the fabric of his shirt.

Morty slightly pulls away to lick at Ethan's lips, smothering the reddening flesh with his moist tongue before kissing Ethan again, each press of their lips making a smacking noise that seems to magnify in the silence of the kitchen.

Morty lifts his hand from the countertop to grasp the back of Ethan's shirt, trailing down the dip of Ethan's back before firmly fondling Ethan's backside.

Ethan jumps at the abrupt contact, further arching into Morty's space as he tries to match the roughness of Morty's kisses. When Morty pulls away to catch his breath, Ethan goes on his tiptoes to press a trail of chaste kisses from the corner of Morty's mouth, down his chin, and across his throat.

Before their mouths can connect again, a clawed hand comes up to tug at the hem of Morty's shirt. Ethan watches Morty curiously look down at his sableye, the pokemon pointing at the stove.

Following sableye's line of sight, Ethan yelps when the pot atop the stove emits a light trail of smoke. He quickly breaks out of Morty's embrace and turns the stove off, letting out a sigh of relief as he checks that the contents inside haven't burned.

Offering Morty a sheepish grin, Ethan says, "Well, at least it's still edible?"

Morty shrugs, wiping his lips with his thumb. He refrains from smirking when Ethan's eyes trace the movement, going back to settle at the kitchen island again. "Let's eat. Your mom wanted you home the moment you woke up."

Ethan nods, his movements skittish as he assembles food onto the plates and places them on the island. Morty smiles as Ethan prepares a plate for his sableye too, wondering how he ever got himself such a precious lover.

The morning passes without further fanfare, the air filled with the sounds of their quiet chatter and the clinking of utensils against plates.

When they finish, Morty gives Ethan some presentable clothes, not too keen on an overprotective mother tearing to him to shreds for sullying her beloved son's chastity. Once Ethan's set, he walks Ethan outside, smiling fondly as Ethan calls out his togekiss. The pokemon chirps, eagerly flapping his wings as Ethan settles on his back.

Ethan waves at Morty as togekiss begins preparing for flight, making a "call-me" gesture with his hand. Morty smiles, nodding and waving back.

A bright smile splits Ethan's face as togekiss hovers fully in the air, his white body puffing up as he zips into the sky within a second, disappearing into the clouds.

Morty sighs once they leave, tension bleeding from his frame. He looks down when he hears something shuffling beside him, seeing his sableye look up at him with a knowing gleam in his jewel eyes.

Morty chuckles, petting the pokemon's head. "Don't give me that look."

Sableye simply shrugs, walking back into the house.

Morty looks up to the blue sky, watching the white clouds lazily float by. He wonders when he'll get the chance to have Ethan stay over again.

The breakfast was delicious, but his hunger is far from satiated.

* * *

IV.

* * *

A slight breeze sweeps through the playground, lifting autumn-colored leaves into the air and rustling the vividly colored treetops. Ethan sneezes when a particularly chilly gust brushes past him, his arms trembling as his grip tightens on the chains of the swing.

When the wind picks up again, Ethan braces himself for another cold blast of air, instinctively closing his eyes. When he doesn't feel anything, his eyelids slowly peel open, and he's met with the sight of thin purple arms enveloping his body, thus shielding him from the cold.

As he looks up, he recognizes the yellow cross and red eyes of his savior's face. "Drifblim!"

Drifblim bleats happily when Ethan hugs his balloon body, wrapping his arms snugly around the trembling teen.

Pulling away, Ethan says, "If you're here, then that means—"

He almost falls off the swing when a hand covers his eyes, another coming to rest on his waist, thereby steadying him.

"Guess who," the person covering Ethan's eyes says.

Rolling his eyes, Ethan pretends to ponder over it. "This is difficult, practically everyone owns a drifblim…It could be anybody!"

He smiles when his comment earns him a low laugh, light flooding his vision as the hand pulls away and instead curls along his chin, tilting his head to face Morty properly.

When his eyesight adjusts to the change in scenery, Morty is already on him, warm lips softly encasing Ethan's in a sweet kiss. Morty's hand angles Ethan's head a bit to the side, allowing their lips to firmly slot against each other.

With a nibble on Ethan's bottom lip, Morty pulls away, admiring the lovely flush of Ethan's cheeks. Unwittingly, his thumb delves into the pillowy surface of Ethan's bottom lip, and Morty almost loses his control when Ethan's mouth drops the slightest inch open, letting his moist breath ghost over the digit.

Drifblim chooses that exact moment to remind them of his presence, chirping loudly as he pushes against Ethan's shoulders. Ethan blinks, snapping out of his reverie and giggling as drifblim hugs him tightly, undoubtedly asking for Ethan's attention.

Morty frowns at his pokemon, clearly not sharing Ethan's sentiment. "Well, excuse me then."

"Aw, don't be like that," Ethan says, still holding onto drifblim. "You know I don't like your pokemon more than I like you."

Drifblim flaps its arms at that, displeased. Ethan laughs, consolingly stroking the pokemon's head. "Ah, no, no, I didn't mean it like that! I love you guys!"

Morty crosses his arms, looking at the scene with a begrudging fondness. As much as he hides it, he really does love his pokemon a lot—even if they have the tendency to butt their heads into his sorely lacking love life.

Ethan looks back at him, sending him a cheeky grin and mouthing the words: _I still like Morty the most._

Morty blames the cold for the heat rising to his cheeks. He lifts his scarf to cover the lower half of his face, shamefully darting his eyes to the leaf-ridden ground as Ethan's charming laugh pierces the crisp air.

Well, it stands to reason that he, too, likes Ethan the most—abundantly and achingly so.

* * *

V.

* * *

The unsuspecting woman walks into the nondescript home, shivering as the rain pelts her unprotected back. The door clicks rather forebodingly as she enters the empty living room, and the woman has no time to gather her bearings when a shadow streaks across the floor.

Both the woman and Ethan jump at the sudden action, the latter clasping at Morty's arm with a hold tight enough to rival that of an arbok.

Morty chuckles, turning away from the television screen to glance at the trembling teen holding his arm in a vice grip. He brings up his free arm to consolingly pat Ethan's head, much to Ethan's visible chagrin.

"Nothing happened yet," Morty points out playfully, loosening the grip Ethan has on his arm. As much as he loves the closeness, he does have an equal amount of affection for proper blood circulation.

When his teasings result in a pouting Ethan, Morty shifts closer, wrapping his arm around Ethan's shoulder so that Ethan can snuggle into his side. Taking Ethan's hand into his own, he says, "I still don't understand why you wanted to watch a horror movie if you scare this easily."

"I'm not scared!" Ethan claims, sounding unconvinced himself. "Even if I were, getting scared is part of the experience! Wouldn't it seem boring if nothing fazed you?"

Morty shrugs, interlocking his and Ethan's fingers together. "I don't know; to be frank, I don't find scary things that exciting."

"What does, then?" Ethan asks, peering up at Morty, his eyes sparkling with unbridled curiosity. "Other than battling, of course."

"Don't ask me questions you don't want to hear the answer to," Morty says, barely reigning in the rather lewd response he had ready for such an inquiry.

"Aww, don't be like that." Ethan nudges his nose into Morty's neck, wrapping his arms around Morty's torso. When Morty answers so enigmatically like that, it spurs on Ethan's nosiness even more! "Tell me, tell me!"

"Do you really want to know?" Morty asks after a slight pause. The rational part of him is screaming to end the thread of questioning right there, but he can't bring himself to stop.

"Absolutely!" Ethan chirps. Oh, sweet, innocent Ethan—he really didn't know the power he holds over Morty's dwindling patience.

"It means you won't be able to finish the rest of the movie," Morty says rather lamely, giving Ethan one last attempt to escape.

Ethan only stares at him with those glittering eyes, shining so brightly despite the dim lighting of the living room. For a moment, Morty gets the entertaining thought that if Ethan had a tail, it'd be wagging right now.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Morty says and, within the next second, pins Ethan to the couch.

Without further preamble, he leans down to capture Ethan's lips in a long kiss, shadowing Ethan's slender body with his broader frame.

Ethan startles at the sudden change in positions, but before he can acclimate to the new situation, Morty already has his tongue shoved in his mouth. Ethan moans as Morty licks around the wet cavity, tongue flicking over his teeth and nudging at his own appendage before pulling out.

After giving Ethan a second to breathe, Morty's mouth is on him again, alternating between hard kisses and soft nips to his bottom lip.

Ethan can feel his heart thumping away in his chest, threatening to jump out of his throat as one of Morty's cool hands settle on his clothed stomach, the other holding his hand against the couch.

"It's cold," Ethan says, flushing when Morty directs him a heated look. "Your hands, I mean." 

Morty smirks. "You wouldn't mind if I warm them up, then?"

In an instant, Morty sticks his hand under Ethan's flimsy shirt, enjoying the way Ethan yelps as the coldness seeps from Morty's palm to his stomach.

"Morty!" Ethan cries, face reddening madly as Morty's hand sneaks up his stomach to his chest. "That's playing dirty!"

"…Cute," Morty murmurs, pushing up Ethan's shirt so that it bunches under his armpits. Ethan shudders when his chest is exposed to the cold air, blushing as he notices the rather ravenous stare directed at his abdomen.

Pink nipples stare back at Morty, pert and shiny, begging to be ravished. Without thinking, Morty is pinching one of them, rolling the nub between his fingers. Ethan cries out from the stimulation, his back arching unwittingly as a deep flush scours his cheeks.

"So you're sensitive here…" Morty observes aloud, making Ethan turn his head to the side as he screws his eyes shut from the embarrassment.

Morty leans down to kiss Ethan's cheek, saying, "Don't look away. I want to see the faces you make when you're pleasured."

To emphasize his sentiment, he lowers himself to kiss Ethan's slender neck, thumb still rubbing Ethan's steadily hardening nipple. Grinning at the way Ethan's hands scramble to fist at his hair, Morty places a few more kisses on the unblemished skin presented to him before closing his teeth around it and sucking harshly.

Ethan keens as Morty suckles a bruise into his neck, the thumb on his chest still rolling his nipple. The added pleasure makes him want to cry.

"It feels good," Ethan barely manages, his voice trembling, fingers clenching around golden strands of hair.

"Yeah?" Morty asks, leading a trail of wet kisses down Ethan's neck and stopping at his collarbone, his breath warm on Ethan's skin. "I can make you feel even better."

The promise in Morty's husky voice has Ethan feeling equally nervous and excited.

Morty sits further down the couch so that his face is level with Ethan's chest. His thumb still teasing Ethan's nipple, he sucks the other one into his mouth, teeth catching onto the flesh.

Ethan's ensuing moan could have woken up the dead. He gasps, an intake of breath so sharp that he swears it rattles his lungs, tugging at Morty's hair as his chest is bitten and laved at.

"So good." Ethan pants, his nipples feeling so hard and sore under Morty's tongue and fingers. "Morty, it feels so _good,_ you're so good, please—"

Morty can't help the pride surging within him as he listens to Ethan's wrecked sobs. Forgoing any further teasing, Morty pulls away with one last bite to Ethan's nipple before kissing down Ethan's stomach, his hands resting on lithe hips.

He's about to tug down Ethan's shorts when Ethan suddenly screams, though it's not from the mind-blowing bliss Morty had imagined.

Morty's jostled into an upright position when Ethan practically leaps into his lap, arms thrown around his neck and clinging onto his sweater like a lifeline.

Morty turns back to the forgotten movie, and is met with the face of the ghost projecting out of the television screen.

"Gengar," Morty says, unfazed, an undercurrent of irritation tinging his tone, "knock it off. You're going to scare Ethan to an early grave."

The ghost pouts, its image morphing until it assumes the familiar form of Morty's trusted gengar. Hearing Morty admonish his pokemon, Ethan frightfully removes his face from Morty's neck and glances around the room. Other than the television screen showing static, nothing else was amiss.

"So it was just gengar," Ethan says, sighing with relief. He doesn't move from Morty's lap, instead collapsing into his chest. "God, for a second there I was wondering when graphics had gotten this good."

Morty laughs, sitting back so that Ethan can settle on his lap more comfortably. Carding his hands through Ethan's silky hair, he says, "Only you would think something like that."

Ethan merely grumbles under his breath, making Morty chuckle. His expression then adopts one of contemplation, curiously staring at Morty.

"What is it?" Morty asks. "Do you want me to take you home?"

"Not that," Ethan says, a blush painting his round cheeks. "I was just thinking…this is the kind of stuff that gets you excited."

Morty blushes, at a loss for words. "Did you not like it?"

Ethan shakes his head, shifting closer until their chests are pressed together. He shyly pecks Morty's mouth, his red lips pursed. "No, I liked it a lot."

"Is that so?" Morty's hand curves over Ethan's hip as Ethan inches closer, smiting the already diminished distance between their bodies.

"Kiss me again," Ethan demands, though it sounds more like a plea, his lips looking absolutely delectable, his expression utterly debauched.

"With pleasure." Morty almost purrs, kissing Ethan languidly, his sweater bunched tightly in Ethan's small fists. His other hand caresses the bare skin of Ethan's thigh, marveling at the way Ethan shudders from the minuscule action.

The phone call he gets later that evening from Ethan's mother after he sends a dazed Ethan back home is one filled with false pleasantries, as Morty is sure Ethan's mother wants to skin him alive for sending her precious son home with dark hickeys marring his slender neck.

Morty merely responds with a blithe tone of his own, unperturbed, thinking that it was completely worth it. In fact, it makes him wonder how angry Ethan's mother will get if she were to ever find out that Morty had spent the rest of the night, in the privacy of his bedroom, pleasuring himself to thoughts of deflowering her dearest son.

* * *

\+ VI.

* * *

When Morty wakes, his vision is taken up by Ethan's smiling face.

He blinks slowly, the haze of sleep ebbing away as awareness begins to flow in. Massaging his eyes, he says, "Ethan?"

"Hey, sleepyhead." Ethan giggles, the sound reminding Morty of cheerful bell chimes. "You really knocked out, huh?"

Morty hums in lieu of an answer, relaxing into the hand Ethan has carding through his messy blond hair. "What time is it?"

"Around seven," Ethan says, twirling sandy strands of hair between his fingers. "Long day?"

"Yeah." Morty sighs, deep and with resignation. He shifts around, his skin prickling with heat when he belatedly realizes his head is atop Ethan's lap. "A lot more challengers than I expected."

"I didn't think you would be so exhausted from that," Ethan says, failing to hide his snicker behind his dainty hand. "And to think you were just complaining about the lack of challengers a few days ago."

"I didn't _complain_ ," Morty says in a manner that was most certainly _not_ a whine. "I am most honored to fulfill my as role gym leader."

"Really now?" Ethan asks, his incredulity practically tangible. "I guess losing that many times in a row takes a lot out of a person."

That got Morty to retaliate: Ethan squeals when Morty quickly jabs at Ethan's ticklish side, swatting away Morty's hands as his chest heaves with forceful laughter.

"For your information, I won all those matches, so please reel back the sarcasm," Morty says, wondering how a propensity for snarky remarks lies behind such an innocent face.

"Of course, whatever helps you sleep at night," Ethan says when he recovers from his fit, his hands back to massaging Morty's scalp.

"Brat," Morty retorts, though there's no heat behind it. He tries to relax again, melting into how well Ethan's fingers are detangling his hair. "When did you get here?"

"I think around five? I messaged you that I was going to come over today, but I guess you forgot." Ethan pouts, his puffed cheeks reminiscent of a vexed jigglypuff. If Morty weren't so tired, he would lean up to kiss it away. "I saw you taking a nap here and I didn't feel like going all the way back, so I just decided to join you."

Morty feels his heart swell, fearing that a blush will overtake his cheeks. He turns his body to rest on his side, burrowing his face in Ethan's stomach so that he can't see how red it is, though the action only results in Ethan cooing at him.

With the cloudiness of sleep fully gone, he remembers that he came straight home from a full day of gym matches sometime in the afternoon. He hadn't expected the exhaustion to creep up on him like it did, but in his defense, he hadn't had that many challengers in one day for a while. He ended up just sinking into his couch the moment he opened the door to his home, unconscious and oblivious to the world.

"You know," Ethan starts, his fingertips resting on Morty's temple. "Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back…You should have gone to bed."

"Then you should have carried me there." Morty faces away from Ethan's stomach to send him a smirk, chuckling at the unhappy twist of Ethan's lips.

"Like I can do that," Ethan grumbles, annoyed, resuming his task of petting Morty's hair.

Now that Morty thinks about it, he remembers going to sleep in an upright position when he first crumpled onto his couch. That meant Ethan had maneuvered his head onto his lap to make him more comfortable, stroking his hair for—

Morty shoots up from his position, startling Ethan. "You've been here for two hours."

"Uh, yeah?" Ethan says, visibly confused.

"Why?" The sheer boredom must have been torturous.

"What do you mean 'why'?" Ethan laughs at the incredulity written on Morty's face. "I did say I wanted to come over."

"So you just watched me sleep? For two hours? And did nothing else?"

"Yes? Is that so strange?" Ethan looks down to his lap, face reddening, twiddling his fingers. "Sorry, I didn't know that made you uncomfortable—"

"No, it doesn't." Morty is quick to refute, taking Ethan's hands into his own and reverently caressing the skin with his thumbs. "That's my mistake, I should have worded that better. I was simply surprised that you would want to do that…Weren't you bored?"

Ethan shakes his head, shyly averting his gaze. "I wasn't! I liked it, actually…I feel like I'm always talking your ear off whenever I come over, so it felt good to just watch you in peace for a while…"

The blush on his cheeks intensifies with every word he says, reminding Morty of an adorably ripe tomato. "Uwaaaah, that probably sounded really weird."

"It's not," Morty says, pulling Ethan into his arms and kissing Ethan's blazing cheek. "You are so unbelievably cute, it drives me crazy."

"Stooop," Ethan whines, his ears overtaken by red now. "That should be my line! You're so handsome, even while you're sleeping…it made me wonder how I ever got such a good-looking guy as my boyfriend…"

Morty swears his brain short-circuits from the confession. Fearing that his words will fail him, he crushes Ethan close to his chest, who squeaks from the suddenness.

"Your heart is beating so fast," Ethan murmurs, his hands wrapped around Morty's abdomen.

"Of course it is," Morty whispers into Ethan's hair. "I forgot my boyfriend was coming over and went straight to sleep, but instead of getting mad at me, he put my head in his lap and looked over me for two hours without a single complaint."

"It's not such a big deal…"

"It is to me," Morty says, his low tone belying the storm of emotion brewing in his chest.

"Well, if it really bothers you so much," Ethan starts, looking up at Morty with an eager expression. "You _could_ make it up to me."

"Is that so…" Morty drawls, cradling Ethan's cheek. "And what does my beloved want?" Ethan blushes at the pet name, pouting. He pulls away from Morty's embrace to sit on his lap, taking Morty's hands and settling them on his hips. Without a single word, he takes Morty's face in his hands and kisses him, inching forward until their chests are pressed together.

Morty reciprocates immediately, needing no further instruction. He raises one hand to curve around the back of Ethan's slender neck, tilting his head so that their mouths can slot together more firmly, the thumb of his other hand rubbing Ethan's hipbone.

Ethan shudders when Morty digs his fingers deeply into a spot near his side, sighing into Morty's mouth. Morty seizes the opportunity to plunge his tongue past Ethan's open lips, enjoying Ethan's gasp as his fingers delve into Morty's shoulders.

Morty takes his time thoroughly mapping the inside of Ethan's mouth with his tongue, crushing Ethan closer to himself as their saliva mingle. There's a thrumming in his chest, heat unfurling from his heart and down to his gut as Ethan kisses back, earnest in intention yet clumsy in execution.

"Morty." Ethan gasps his name when they separate, voice deliciously wrecked, and desire stirs inside Morty, delirious from how torn apart Ethan sounds from mere kissing. "Please."

"Hmm?" Morty bares Ethan's neck, laying fleeting kisses across Ethan's jaw. "What is it?"

"Please touch me." Ethan nearly sobs, his hips beginning to move shakily against Morty's stomach. "I want you so much."

Morty pauses, gripping hard onto Ethan's hip, who releases a muted mewl—god, he wants so badly for a bruise to bloom there. Dropping an apologetic kiss on Ethan's cheek, he says, "Do you know what you're asking me?"

Ethan nods, tentative, but his eyes are determined. "…back when you touched me, here on this couch…"

A pretty pink blossoms on Ethan's cheeks, the peach skin emitting a radiant glow. "I keep thinking about it…what you would have done if gengar hadn't interrupted us…"

The cadence of his hips picks up in speed, only to be deterred when Morty clasps them hard, stopping the swiveling motions. Ethan whines, wanting stimulation but knowing Morty wants to hear what he has to say.

"I got curious and ended up touching myself that night…it's so embarrassing, I didn't know what to do, I had to search it up…it's all your fault, Morty, no one ever made me feel this way before."

Morty can feel the heat of desire pool deep in his gut, burning through his veins like an untamable fire. "I did the same thing when you went home."

He smirks at the hitch in Ethan's breath. "I went up to my room and touched myself…I thought I was going to go crazy from how much I've wanted you these past few days."

He buries his face in Ethan's neck, licking at the sweat beading at the dip into his shoulder. "You looked so beautiful that night, but you would look even better on my bed, crying from the pleasure I'd give you."

Ethan whimpers from the mental image, wrapping his arms around Morty's neck and dragging himself closer, trying to diminish the already nonexistent distance between their bodies. "M-Morty, don't tease me—"

"I won't," Morty promises, kissing Ethan, who responds eagerly with each touch of their lips. "But I'll do this only if I know that you truly want to." Morty couldn't forgive himself if Ethan were to only go along with his whims because he felt pressured to.

"I do!" Ethan cries, his cheeks flushing in shame from the outburst. "That's why I came over, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it."

The heat in Morty's stomach twists sharply, his longing almost palpable. His pants feel unbearably tight, and the pressure of Ethan's ass on his lap does nothing to alleviate the strain, his arousal simply gaining more prominence.

"God, you have no idea what you do to me," Morty says, trying to calm himself down. "The things I want to do to you…"

"Then show me," Ethan says, breathless. "Give me an idea."

Wordlessly, Morty gets up, picking up Ethan in a bridal carry. Feeling a sense of deja vu, Ethan winds his arms around Morty's neck for balance. He blushes at how secure he feels in Morty's embrace, being held like he's something precious.

His heart beats quickly, scampering in his chest, when Morty enters the bedroom. Gently depositing Ethan onto the bed, Morty goes back to lock the door and returns to Ethan all in one motion. Ethan can't stamp his excitement when Morty finally pushes him on his back, crawling over his supine body.

"Last chance," Morty whispers, his wispy blond hair shining gold under the lights of his bedroom.

Without responding, Ethan pulls Morty down to his level, forcing Morty to hold his weight on his forearms. All Morty sees is Ethan's cheeky smile before he's pulled into a kiss, thin fingers tangling into his hair and removing his headband. He's about to say something when Ethan carelessly tosses the garment aside, only to be silenced by another kiss, melting into the embrace as Ethan's arms wind around his neck.

Trusting Ethan to hold his weight, Morty allows himself to fully drape over Ethan's compliant body. He stifles a laugh when the distribution of weight causes Ethan to huff, kissing Ethan's lips in apology.

Ethan hums, playing with the blond hair at Morty's nape as Morty kisses him into oblivion, his mouth plundered by a hot, wet tongue. He can't help the moan that escapes him when Morty bites his lower lip, laving at the injury with his tongue.

Morty pulls away, faintly chuckling at Ethan's despondent whine. "Don't tell me you like pain?"

"I don't!" Ethan whines, mortified. The bite merely took him off guard, nothing more. He huffs at Morty's smug smirk, pulling him down by his scarf to kiss that self-satisfied expression of his handsome face.

"Feisty," Morty whispers in between kisses, sliding his hands up and down Ethan's sides.

"I thought I said not to tease me." Ethan pouts, his lips reddened from use. Morty wants to test just how red he can get them to look.

"And I said I won't," Morty retorts, sitting back on his knees to discard his scarf and sweater. He doesn't comment on how Ethan gawks at his bare torso, navy eyes openly ogling his frame with thinly veiled lust.

Drawing Ethan into a deep kiss, Morty unzips his thin, red jacket. Ethan immediately removes the garment, tossing it aside like he did with Morty's headband. Chuckling at the enthusiasm, Morty pushes him down and mounts him again.

Morty sighs into Ethan's mouth as Ethan's hands clutch at his back, over his shoulder blades. He coaxes Ethan further into the mattress, his tongue raiding Ethan's mouth with fervor. He doesn't dare to leave any corner untouched, licking at Ethan's teeth like a man possessed.

Ethan moans from the sensations overwhelming him, shivering from excitement at the wet sounds of their tongues. He almost jumps when cool hands touch his waist, slowly trailing from his stomach up to his heaving chest.

He squeaks when Morty twists a nipple, who takes the chance to bite Ethan's lower lip. An unexplainable yearning forms in the depths of Ethan's gut, steadily growing as Morty trails kisses from his mouth to his jaw, sucking hard at a juncture as sneaky fingers brush against his other nipple.

His back arches when Morty tugs and tweaks his nipples, the soft buds hardening under the pressure as Morty's head lowers to his neck, teeth scraping Ethan's pulse. He can't help the embarrassingly loud mewl that spills past his lips as Morty bites and licks at his neck without restraint, doubtlessly leaving marks. Ethan gasps from the insistent hands playing with his nipples, the peaks plucked with a force just shy of harsh.

"Morty…" Ethan pants, driving his fingers into Morty's back as nails rake against his sore nipples. " _Ah_ —"

"Yes, love?" Morty asks, pulling away to proudly smile at the dark marks littering the pale column of Ethan's neck.

"I want to touch you too," Ethan says, tugging Morty into a soft kiss. He shyly touches his tongue to the seam of Morty's lips, sighing with content when Morty opens his mouth and their tongues engage in a slow dance. His hips buck up when Morty thumbs at his nipples again, gasping into the kiss and hauling himself closer against Morty's bare torso.

Morty hums, licking at the corners of Ethan's panting mouth. "Hm, I'll think about it."

Ethan moans, confused at Morty's statement, but he's not allowed to dwell on it further when Morty slides down his body. Pushing Ethan's shirt up to his armpits, Morty takes a reddened nipple into his mouth and sucks at it, hard.

Ethan cries out, hands flying to grasp at Morty's hair as Morty relentlessly licks and bites at his nipple. Sparks of pleasure race down his chest to pool at the pit of his stomach, heat beginning to coil as Morty switches to the other nipple, offering it the same amount of attention.

Morty trails his mouth down Ethan's sternum, laying kisses upon the sweaty skin as his hands work to unfasten Ethan's pants. Looking up, he asks, "Can I?"

Not trusting himself to form coherent words, Ethan nods, cheeks flushing as Morty slides his pants down his legs, leaving him bare save for his briefs. He wants to hide his face when Morty all but stares at the tent in his underwear, almost shrieking when Morty leans down to kiss it.

"Give me a second," Morty says, his low, husky voice inciting Ethan to tremble. He wordlessly watches Morty amble over to his bedside stand, opening up a drawer and peering at its contents before retrieving a small, transparent bottle.

He returns to Ethan's side swiftly with the bottle in hand, dropping it on a pillow before mounting Ethan's body once again and kissing him. Ethan responds without delay, sighing contentedly as Morty softly kisses him over and over, hands gently caressing his outer thighs.

Morty unwittingly pins him further into the mattress as they kiss, their tongues tangled in a fervent embrace. Ethan tugs Morty closer by the shoulders, hooking his legs over Morty's hips and yanking their pelvises closer.

Morty groans into Ethan's mouth as his groin brushes against Ethan's bulge, and the sound spurs Ethan's arousal. Wanting to hear it again, Ethan firmly locks his ankles over Morty's lower back and starts rocking his hips, squarely grinding against the tent in Morty's pants.

"Feisty," Morty says in between huffs of breath, biting Ethan's lower lip in retaliation.

Ethan twitches under him, from delight and shock alike, muttering, "'m not."

Morty skims his hands up the swell of Ethan's full thighs to cup his pert ass. Ethan breaks away from the kiss with a loud gasp, his head facing away and his back arching as hands knead his ass with zeal.

Morty doesn't give him a second to recover, nipping Ethan's ear as he switches from clawing at Ethan's thighs to groping his ass. Morty doesn't consider himself a prideful man, but he can't help the way his ego inflates as his name spills from Ethan's lips like a lovely melody. He's already getting addicted to the sound of Ethan calling out his name with unrestrained desperation as he laves at the outer shell of Ethan's ear.

Legs close tightly around Morty's waist, heels fitting into the curve of his back as he's pulled closer to Ethan, their clothed crotches rubbing against each other in the process. Twin groans of pleasure reverberate in the bedroom, accompanied by Ethan's soft pants.

Ethan feels like his heart is about to explode from the euphoria assaulting his nerves, a sharp heat dipping into his pelvis as Morty nips across his jaw before fully kissing him on the mouth. The contact is slow yet sure, unlike their previous heated kisses. Ethan melts, his bones reduced to putty, as Morty softly kisses his bruised lips over and over again.

Morty isn't faring any better, his restraint slowly crumbling as Ethan mewls against his mouth with each peck of their lips. Dainty hands brush up and down Morty's bare arms in a loving caress, mute sighs of bliss entwining with his breath each time they indulge with their mouths.

"If I do something you don't like, let me know, okay?" Morty asks him when they pull apart. Though he had said it to warn Ethan, he also wanted the small interval of time it'll allow him to steel his nerves.

Ethan shakily nods, blushing at Morty's soft smile as Morty reaches over him to grab the bottle. Sitting back on his feet, Morty lets his gaze rake over Ethan's sprawled body, his dark hair spilling over the pillow like ink, his chest heaving, hard nipples peaking under the hem of his drawn up shirt, plush thighs on either side of Morty's knees, unmarked and begging to be ravished, the prominent tent of those gray briefs—

Morty takes a moment to bask in the fact that this gorgeous being is his boyfriend.

"What is it?" Ethan asks, hesitant, when Morty stares at him silently. Feeling like the stare was judgmental, he slowly tries to close his legs, but Morty is quick to stop him.

"Don't be ashamed," Morty says, petting Ethan's thighs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable; I was simply admiring you."

Morty laughs as a vivid red bursts across Ethan's face, his heart soaring as Ethan whines, covering his face with his hands.

"You—!" Ethan can't finish his exclamation, too mortified to continue. There's a thumping in his chest, heavy as sin, but it makes him feel ecstatic for some unfathomable reason. "…you're really going to kill me…"

"Well, I wouldn't want that to happen." Morty laughs again, removing Ethan's hands from his face. He smiles at the way Ethan adamantly refuses to make eye contact, his swollen lips pulled into the cutest pout.

Ethan remains silent, stubbornly hauling up his shirt to cover his mouth, inadvertently exposing more of his chest to Morty's ravenous gaze. Sighing, Morty focuses on extricating Ethan of his briefs, his eyes searching for any negative reaction as the garment slides down pale legs, his pink, leaking erection springing free.

Tenderly setting the briefs aside, Morty leans closer to kiss Ethan's nose. "Are you okay with this?"

"Y-Yeah," Ethan says, soft and endearingly shy. The blush crawling to his ears, however, is loud, inciting a chuckle from Morty.

"Cute," he says, taking the bottle from the pillow and uncapping it to place a dollop of lubricant on his fingers. Massaging it with his thumb to warm it up, he wraps his slick hand around Ethan's cock, whitish fluid smearing the head.

Though Ethan had seen it all, the contact startles him regardless, hips canting upwards. The combined effects of Morty's cool hand cupping his warm skin cause him to tremble in delight, and he's barely holding back his light moans as Morty's large hand fondles his shaft.

The slick, obscene sounds of Morty stroking him fills the quiet of the room, Ethan's blush increasing in intensity. He screws his eyes shut to ignore the lewd display of his boyfriend handling his erection, but the lack of sight just serves to amplify the already indecent sounds ringing in his ears.

Morty chuckles at the redness spreading across Ethan's face, endeared by how shy his boyfriend is, the innocence a stark contrast to how eager he had been before they started.

Still playing with Ethan's cock, Morty bends forward to kiss away the tension from Ethan's pouty lips. Ethan moans into the space between their mouths, the touches on his cock getting rougher. When Morty's tongue prods at the seam of his lips, he opens his mouth without preamble, eagerly sighing at how Morty licks around in his mouth.

With Ethan sufficiently distracted, Morty uses his other hand to scoop the excess lube dribbling down Ethan's cock onto his fingers, his slick index finger slowly rubbing circles around Ethan's hole.

Ethan flinches at the unexpected touch near such an intimate area. Holding in a whimper, he asks, "Are you going to…?"

"Prepare you?" Morty finishes, flashing Ethan an assuring smile. "Yes, it's to decrease the pain. If you're tense, it might hurt."

Ethan nods, forcing himself to relax. Morty kisses him for his efforts, his ensuing gasp swallowed when the finger then prods against his entrance, meeting resistance as it attempt to push in.

He tries not to squirm as both Morty's tongue and finger plow into him simultaneously, the wet appendages wiggling around in each orifice with equal enthusiasm. The gasps leaving his open lips are moist and heavy, each exhale wafting across Morty's cheeks.

Morty pulls away from the dazed Ethan, giving him a brief kiss before diving down to mouth at his ravaged neck. Spurred on by Ethan's choked gasps, Morty tentatively nips at the flushed skin, his finger carefully nudging against Ethan's walls.

He's almost distracted by how easily Ethan clamps down on his finger, thinking about how Ethan would feel when he's penetrated by something else, but he forgoes the thought, trying to suppress his growing excitement in order to prepare Ethan properly.

Ethan feels like his face is about to overheat from all the blood rushing to his cheeks, biting his hand to muffle all the gasps spilling from his parched throat as Morty's rough hand resumes palming his cock while the finger in him stretches him out thoroughly, moving in tandem with the teeth scraping across his pulse.

He mewls, back arching as pleasure races up his spine when Morty slowly inserts another finger. They crook, the angle causing them to rub against his walls in a way that's short of maddening. The friction on his dick causes heat to flare up in his gut and, combined with the thrusting of wet fingers in his spasming hole, all Ethan can do is cry out from the stimulation. He's almost sobbing as his hands grapple for purchase, anchoring themselves on Morty's shoulders.

Morty winces when fingernails scratch into the meat of his back, the force guaranteeing bruises to form come next morning, but he can't help the swell of pride he feels as he scissors Ethan open, of whom is gasping and panting into his ear, skin flushed a lovely pink.

Kissing him, Morty then slowly coaxes in a third finger. Ethan's subsequent moan is consumed by the mesh of their mouths as Morty's tongue dives in to lick around the wet cavern. The squelch of sticky fingers thrusting in and out of Ethan's hole is obscene, the sound making Ethan blush heavily when he realizes just how loud it is.

Ethan's back arches when he feels those fingers brush against something deep inside him, pinpricks of heat racing down his limbs. He moans loudly as a particular spot is teased at, head tilting back and dark hair spilling messily onto the pillow beneath him.

Morty smiles at Ethan's reaction, angling his fingers so that with each thrust, he squarely hits the spot that has Ethan squirming and moaning with delirious bliss. Ethan's tense walls are squeezing his fingers, sucking them in every time Morty attempts to draw them out. The sight has Morty smirking as he basks in how ridiculously _tight_ his beloved is, and it takes a great deal of effort to quell the desire surging in his gut, telling him to just _take_ Ethan now.

Ignoring his rampant lust, Morty nibbles Ethan's bruised lips. With a weak moan, Ethan kisses him back, his lips soft and pliant under the persuasion of Morty's heated mouth. Then, Ethan pulls away, dragging his mouth across Morty's cheek to tongue the man's jaw, biting it a moment after.

Morty groans, steadying himself as Ethan softly nips across his jaw and towards his neck. He strokes Ethan's cock once more before pulling away, planting it beside Ethan's body as Ethan sucks bruises into his neck.

"Payback," Ethan murmurs, breaking away to admire his work.

Morty chuckles, plunging his fingers hard into Ethan's hole. "You'll have to do better than that, love."

Ethan chokes from the sudden intrusion, moaning as Morty leisurely fingers him open, the digits dragging against his walls and plainly ignoring the spot inside him that makes him shiver from pleasure. "Please, Morty, don't be mean to me…"

"I'm not," Morty assures, kissing the corner of Ethan's eye. "Well, maybe a little."

He snickers at Ethan's whine of outrage; Morty can't help himself, Ethan's cute— _virgin_ —reactions to being touched so intimately are simply too alluring to pass up.

Ethan squirms when Morty's fingers finally brush against his deepest part, his cock jumping from where its trapped between their stomachs, fluid spurting from the tip and steadily drenching their skin. The wetness has Ethan blushing with shame, accompanied by the realization that Morty has now seen every part of his body, which then begets the additional epiphany that he had yet to see Morty's—

With one hand, Ethan pulls Morty into a kiss, the other flitting down Morty's stomach to unzip his white pants. Ethan grins in victory when he manages to shove down both Morty's pants and undergarments far enough to free Morty's hard erection.

Morty groans into the mesh of their mouths when Ethan's hand ghosts over his stiff shaft, sneaky fingers touching the heated flesh in fleeting strokes. In retaliation, Morty shoves his fingers inside Ethan's hole as hard as he can, forcing Ethan to disengage from the kiss to cry out.

Morty pulls his fingers away with a smirk, absently wiping them on the bedsheets before bringing himself up to give Ethan a kiss. When they pull apart, Ethan whispers, soft and needy, "Please."

With a kiss on Ethan's sweaty temple, Morty says, "Lie back."

Ethan follows the command without hesitation, lying on his back and nestling his head on the pillow. He yelps when Morty takes ahold of his knees and pushes his legs apart, exposing his flushed cock and wet hole to the air.

Morty clicks his teeth when Ethan's hands fly down to cover his shame. "Don't be embarrassed." Taking Ethan's hands, he pins them by Ethan's sides. "Do you want to stop?"

The inquiry makes Ethan flush, but he nods nonetheless. Morty smiles at him, picking up the discarded lube bottle and sitting back on his toes. He squirts a generous amount onto his open palm, then caps the bottle and tosses it aside. He groans when he brings down his slick hand to palm his cock, his eyes slipping shut as rubs along the length of his hard shaft.

He almost jumps when he feels a light touch on his heated cock, followed by a soft nudge against his mouth. He opens his eyes to see Ethan softly kissing him. The lust building in his gut is scorching as Ethan tentatively wraps his small hands around the erect length, his own hand making the size of Ethan's look infinitesimal.

Morty groans as their hands move in tandem, spreading the warmed lube across his girth; the slippery sounds of their motions drowned out by the relentless presses of their mouths.

Feeling his climax steadily approaching, Morty takes Ethan's hands off him and he maneuvers Ethan to lay on his back again. Once they settle, he grabs ahold of Ethan's ass, his thumbs on the perimeter of Ethan's shiny rim. Ignoring Ethan's sputters, Morty bares Ethan's entrance open, his fingers digging into the plush of Ethan's ass.

Ethan whimpers when he feels air waft over his slick hole, shivering from the temperature difference. He unconsciously lifts up his shirt so that he can bite on the hem, effectively muffling his whines.

"Relax," Morty says, his voice soothing. "I'll stop if it hurts too much."

Holding his cock in one hand, Morty edges forward until the head catches Ethan's hole. He laughs when the action has Ethan's thighs quivering—from excitement or from nervousness, he wasn't sure—so he rubs circles into the skin of Ethan's thigh with his free hand until he feels the tension fade.

With a steady inhale, Morty slowly pushes in, the head of his cock breaching past the initial resistance. Ethan can feel his body heating up with every inch that enters him, the hard length pulsing as Morty finally bottoms out.

Morty remains still when his cock is entirely buried inside Ethan, giving Ethan some time to adjust to the fullness. He takes ahold of Ethan's hips, his thumbs soothingly rubbing circles into the jut of bone.

Ethan moans lowly as his senses begin to register the weight of Morty's cock penetrating him, feeling like he's being split open from the inside out. His lower lip stings from how hard he's biting it, the plush denting under his teeth, and his hands scramble to take ahold of the bedsheets, the fabric rumpling between his thin fingers.

They remain motionless for a few more minutes, the silence heavy yet comfortable. Ethan inhales shakily in an attempt to stifle the racing of his heart, to steady the pricks of heat drumming under his skin. There's an ache in his thighs from how long he's been holding his legs apart, but he ignores it in favor of wrapping them around Morty's waist, tucking his feet over Morty's back and drawing him in.

Morty gasps from the abrupt action, inadvertently driving himself even deeper into Ethan, the duo simultaneously shuddering from the stimulation it causes. Seeing as how Ethan made it abundantly clear that he's ready, Morty firmly plants his knees into the mattress and tightens his grip on Ethan's hips as he gives an experimental roll of his hips.

Ethan moans loudly, back arching and fingers creasing the bedsheets as sparks ignite deep inside him. Morty's cock is thick and heavy as it pierces his body, heat diffusing across his pelvis.

Morty groans when he feels Ethan's walls clamp around him from just a few thrusts, his nails digging into pliant skin as he swivels his hips harder, the smack of his pelvis against Ethan's ass provocative. Their lewd noises envelop the heated air as Morty intensifies his cadence, fueled by the maddening tightness wrapping his cock.

The bed creaks under Morty's efforts, each thrust shaking both Ethan's body and the bed frame. The elegance of Morty's movements peters out, getting wilder as ecstasy wracks his nerves. With each pound into his body, Ethan's voice rises higher with rapture, ringing like melodic bells in Morty's ears.

Ethan tightens the grip his legs have around Morty's waist, pulling the man closer as he rams into him with reckless abandon. The drag of Morty's cock against his spasming walls is heavenly, each thrust slamming Morty's hard length deeper and closer than the last. He feels as if he's being speared from within, Morty insistently hammering into him as his hips pick up an even greater speed.

Fluid dribbles from the head of Ethan's cock, caught between their stomachs as Ethan's body bounces alongside the power of Morty's thrusts. He jolts as Morty screws him into the mattress, a certain thrust bringing Morty's cock to brush against the bundle of nerves in him.

Morty bites back a smirk, sweat beading at his brow as pleasure races through him, his blood burning. When he pulls out, he takes a moment to angle his hips and rams back in, groaning as a velvety heat encases him.

Ethan cries out, back a pale bow, his inner walls clenching around the hard organ buried inside him. Morty grunts as he continues to target that spot, his cock ravaging it repeatedly. The heat brewing in Ethan's gut is almost unbearable, spurred on with each thrust, his nerves set alight as the spot in him is stimulated without relief.

With one final thrust, Ethan keens, legs shaking as light flashes behind his eyelids. Thin, white ropes burst from the tip of his flushed cock, staining their sweaty bodies.

Morty clenches his teeth, jaw tense, as his cock is squeezed by Ethan's spasming walls, the motions further frenzied due to Ethan's climax. The strings holding him together snap, and Morty keeps his hips flush against the back of Ethan's thighs as pleasure washes over him in waves, the products of his climax spilling deep into Ethan's tight channel.

Ethan weakly moans as he's filled, his softening cock twitching from oversensitivity. When Morty pulls out, a thick stream of white oozes out, past Ethan's puffy rim and staining the bedsheets below.

Morty's movements are lazy as he tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping up his pants afterwards. He lets Ethan catch his breath, slipping off the bed to fetch some tissues from the stand and wipes down the spots of white on his abdomen.

When he returns, he cleans Ethan up the same way. Ethan whines as Morty rubs his stomach and sensitive cock, thoroughly cleaning him. Smirking, Morty leans down to kiss Ethan's face, all the while scrubbing up the mess staining Ethan's hole.

Ethan jumps, batting at Morty, who merely laughs and finishes tidying Ethan up. Chucking the dirtied tissues into the trash, he lies down in bed and gathers Ethan into his arms. Ethan instantly snuggles into his neck, kissing it as he entangles his legs with Morty's.

Morty laughs, the breath tickling Ethan's mussed hair. "How was it?"

"Good," Ethan says, a hum in his voice. "Really good and really exciting."

"I'm glad," Morty says, unaware of the huskiness his voice has adopted. "I'd like to show you more exciting things in the future as well."

"Uwaaah." Ethan blushes, burying his face into Morty's neck. He feels Morty's chest rumble with laughter. "You're really going to kill me."

"Not as much as your mother would kill me if she were to find out."

Ethan grimaces, recalling his mother's lecture when he had come home with hickeys that one time. In his defense, his mind was so occupied with thoughts of Morty that he had completely forgotten to get rid of the evidence. " _If_ she finds out."

Morty snorts, skeptical. "All right, we'll worry about this tomorrow. Sleep now, you must be tired."

"Whose fault is that?" Ethan quips, driving his fingers into Morty's bare back.

"You didn't like it?"

"…I didn't say that," Ethan grumbles, blushing harder when Morty laughs. "I…"

Morty stills, petting Ethan's hair. "What is it?"

"I like you, a lot. Like, _like_ like."

Morty stares at the head of hair under his chin, then chuckles quietly. He coos at Ethan's whines, trying to mollify Ethan's embarrassment.

"I like you a lot, too." He kisses the top of Ethan's head, rubbing the curve of Ethan's back.

He smiles to himself at Ethan's pleased giggle, his eyes slipping shut as sleep claims him.

* * *

The next morning, Morty disentangles himself from Ethan's clutches, smiling at how Ethan whines from the loss of contact. He kisses Ethan's forehead, hiking the blanket further up Ethan's body to make up for the lack of body heat. He pulls on a shirt, glancing about the state of his room and mentally noting to pick up their scattered clothing later.

When he enters the kitchen to prepare breakfast for him and Ethan, he's greeted by the sight of his ghost pokemon, all occupied in various degrees of activity. His mismagius and gengar are the only ones to acknowledge his presence, chirping their greetings. His sableye is on the kitchen table, seemingly focussed on annoying his motionless dusknoir while his drifblim mindlessly floats about.

All in all, it's a familiar scene. Ignoring the pokemon, Morty strides over to the fridge. As he prepares breakfast, he hears the soft thud of footsteps. Turning around, he smiles at the yawning Ethan, still clad in his shirt from the previous night and wearing what Morty assumes to be sweatpants that belong to him.

"Good morning," he greets, corralling Ethan to take a seat by the kitchen island, endlessly endeared by the creases of sleep present on Ethan's face, his dark hair an absolute mess.

Morty wouldn't mind waking up to see this every morning.

"Mornin'," Ethan mumbles blearily, his eyes still blinking as he adjusts to awareness. He almost startles when Morty, without warning, soundlessly ambles over to his side and kisses his cheek, pushing a mug into his hand.

Ethan kisses him back in thanks, then looks over to the ghost pokemon scattered about, greeting them individually. Drifblim and mismagius float over, poking him for attention.

Ethan indulges, beaming at them as he watches them hover over to annoy Morty. Bringing the mug up to his lips—he sighs in content as the flavor of orange juice hits his tastebuds—he glances around the room.

He ends up looking at gengar, tilting his head in confusion when gengar grins at him cheekily. Ethan sputters when gengar mimes a perverted gesture with his hands, one of his stubby fingers jamming itself into the circle made by the two fingers of his other hand.

Morty is over at his side in an instant, rubbing Ethan's back and scolding gengar for almost making him choke to death, but the pokemon only grins, his body shaking with laughter.

Ethan giggles when he recovers, shocking Morty. Before Morty could question his sanity, Ethan leans over and gives him a quick peck on the lips, the seeds of love taking root in his heart, ready to bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> can't believe my first fic of of 2020 is smut for yet another rare pair...nah, who am i kidding, this is my brand babey
> 
> as always, apologies for any mistakes, and thanks for reading!


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